A Perfectly Mad, Madly Perfect Proposal
by Erik's little bird
Summary: This is my fluffier sequel to A Wonderfully Mad Idea. No flaming, please. Disclaimer: I own nothing!


**A Perfectly Mad, Madly Perfect Proposal**

"_Be back before you know it," he said_, Tarrant thought; _now here I am four years later, and where is Alice? Forgotten me most likely. And why shouldn't he? What does a half-mad hatter like me have to offer him?_

The Mad Hatter sat lost in these thoughts, completely ignoring Thackary Earwhicket and his mindless chatter. Until the feel of a teapot hitting his head caught his attention.

"Why must I always pelt you with your own tea things to get your attention?" Thackary asked, but it wasn't the March Hare Tarrant focused on. Tarrant leaped to his feet and ran across his table. There, in front of him, proper size and all, stood Alice Kingsleigh. He hopped off the opposite end of the table and did his best Futterwhacken, taking her hand at the end of the dance.

"I told you I'd be back," Alice said, matter-of-factly, squeezing Tarrant's hand.

"Why are you always late?" Tarrant asked. The happy grin on his face and spring-green coloring of his eyes told Alice he didn't really care about the answer.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" she retorted, taking a seat next to the Hatter. He smiled and nodded. Thackary calmed considerably.

"Well, Mallymkun," he said to the dormouse, "I think we've over-stayed our welcome."

"Nonsense," she snapped; "I won't be driven away by this false Alice. I don't care whether she slayed the Jabberwocky or not!"

"I am happy to see you both again," Alice started, turning to Mallymkun, who hmph'ed at her in response.

"If you please," Tarrant said, "I would like to speak with Alice alone. And technically tea-time is over-with, anyway." Thackary winked at Hatter. Muttering something about how it had to be the right Alice, because only Alice would show up at the end of a tea party, and how it would be so much more sensible to show up at the beginning, he dragged Mallymkun off.

"Are you here to stay, Alice?" the Hatter asked. _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, _the voices in his head screamed in unison.

"I will stay as long as you wish," Alice said, blushing at the eagerness in Tarrant's eyes. The voices in Tarrant's head made jubilant cries of _He stays!_

"You'll need a home, you know," Tarrant hinted; "you can't live on my table. Or under it, for that matter. No, that wouldn't do at all. Perhaps you could ask the queen to let you stay at the castle. I work there again, you know. I've made ever so many hats. The queen is always asking for new bonnets , and sun-hats, and veils, and—"

"Hatter!" Alice laughed. Immediately he calmed down, apologizing with a sheepish expression, and assuring Alice he was fine.

"Anyway, we'd be sure to see each other more often," he said, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I have a much better idea for a home," Alice said, boldly. Tarrant grinned. _His Muchness came back with him!_

"Do you?" he asked; "may I see where you plan to live?" A playful look crossed Alice's face.

"Stand up, and hold your arms out," she instructed.

"How does this have anything to do with—" he started to ask, following her orders. It wasn't until he felt her body slam against his chest, and her arms squeezing him that he understood.

"Truly, Alice?" he asked, pushing her back so she could tell him her answer to his face. She looked in his eyes, the same expression as just before she left, when he asked her to stay.

"If you'll have me," she said, blushing again as she realized how presumptuous her actions were. Tarrant chuckled, holding her tighter.

"Will I have him, he asks. Really, Alice, your questions are always so impossibly silly!" Alice nestled her head against his shoulder, saying, "A thing is only impossible if you believe it is."

That response was Tarrant's undoing. He both leaned forward and tugged her closer to him, kissing her passionately, as he had on the queen's balcony years before. He grinned into Alice's mouth as he listened to her sigh, and felt her fingers clutching the ends of his wild, orange hair.

"Mine," Tarrant half-growled in his Scottish brogue when their lips parted. Alice grinned from ear to ear. Somehow, she noted, her beloved Hatter had slipped a diamond ring around a very particular finger.


End file.
